“It is in these moments—when the air is thick and hot, threatening—that I can close my eyes and inhale, when I can smell Tangier again. It is the smell of a kiln, of something warm, but not burning, almost like marshmallows, but not as sweet. There is a touch of spice, something vaguely familiar, like cinnamon, cloves, cardamom even, and then something else entirely familiar.”

With another March snowstorm predicted for New England, most of us are more than ready to welcome spring and warm weather. Set in Morocco in 1956, Tangerine is the perfect antidote to winter restlessness. It’s super interesting for Americans to be in this North African country on the brink of its sovereignty. Alice moved to Tangiers with her new husband. She’s still acclimating when her former college friend Lucy makes a surprise visit.

During college something pushed the roommates apart, to such a degree that Alice isn’t happy to see her. They met at Bennington College which in itself provides lots of information for the novel’s characters. Alice is from a wealthy British family while Lucy is a scholarship student from a neighboring town in Vermont. Alice’s mother graduated from Bennington and then moved to England and married a Brit. Apparently the two immediately hit is off with Alice treating Lucy as she would her wealthy peers. Of their friendship, Lucy thinks: “The relationship that Alice and I had formed after only a few short weeks, the partiality that we felt for one another—it went beyond any rational description. Affinity, I decided, was a good enough start.” This sets up a perfect scenario for jealousy and competition and obsession. As open-minded as Alice might be, her circumstances provide her with a level of comfort which Lucy won’t have. It becomes increasingly clear that Lucy feels romantically attracted to Alice, that she’s become possessive of Alice and she becomes upset when Alice doesn’t feel the same.

They bond over their tragic childhoods and become inseparable friends until Alice’s new boyfriend pushes them apart. Lucy grows jealous that Alice spends more time with the boyfriend than she does with her. That boyfriend dies in a car accident. But was it really an accident or something more sinister? Lucy enjoys the perks of her friendship with Alice: “I had shaken my head then, had told myself no, I could not be made to go back, to return to my full little life, a life of obscurity, of mediocrity.

Generally overwhelmed by Tangier, Alice remains in her apartment most days. She warily ventures out once a week to the market. She doesn’t even know what her husband does for work. The couple met and married rather quickly. John seems to be the standard scoundrel, a good-looking manipulative man Of John: “John was bad at money, he had once told me with a grin, and at the time, I had smiled thinking he meant that he didn’t care about it, that it wasn’t a concern for him. What it really meant, I soon learned, was that his family’s fortune was nearly gone, just enough remained to keep him well dressed, so that he could play at pretending to still claim the wealth he once had, that he had been born into and still felt was rightfully his.” At one point, John admits to Lucy: “We need each other, Alice and I. Haven’t you already figured that out? I need her money—well maybe not need, perhaps appreciate would be the better word. And she needs me to keep her out of the looney bin.” Lucy manages to encourage Alice to venture out and explore the city, to drink mint tea at a cafe, to walk around and to even hear music and a nightclub. When John disappears, it forces Alice to delve into that dark incident in the past and question her friend’s motives. “It seemed to hang: thick and humid. Languid. That would be the right word to describe it, I decided.” This novel unfolds in a languid manner. Author Christine Mangan wrote her PhD thesis on gothic literature and her expertise translates to a smart, engrossing read.

Social worker Penny Wade connects with a guy she met online but then doesn’t hear from him. Has he ghosted Penny? Ghosting occurs when someone abruptly ceases all communication with a person they’ve dated. It’s the worst. In my experience men are terrible at communicating and it’s easier for them to just not communicate at all. Most women appreciate respect and honesty. Penny reflects: “It takes months, if not years, to get to know someone well enough to decide on a partnership. Maybe. Or maybe you can know kind of quickly.” My therapist has said that to me a few times after telling me I bail on guys I’m dating too early. I think that being in my 40s I know what I like and what I don’t like. While I’m open to letting a relationship develop as it will, I’m not going to invest a ton of time in an unworkable situation.

Relatable conversation between Penny and her roommate:

[Penny] “Is he hot?” [Gloria] “Pretty hot.” “Smart?” “Very.” “Thoughtful?” “Yep. He makes suggestions about what we should do but lets me know he’s open to other ideas. I like it when guys take a little initiative instead of saying ‘what d’ya wanna do?’ you know?” Yeah. I definitely know. And you learn some stuff from their ideas and also how they react if you suggest adjustments.”

Penny’s a friendly, determined, earnest 30something who works for Community Counseling Services which often assists the Department of Children and Families (DCF). Penny’s tasked with investigating a neglect case involving a young mother named Ashley and her two children, eight-year-old Olivia and six-year-old Noah. School administrators reported that the children were “dirty, hungry, and often missed school.”

Author Lucy English worked as a sociology professor and she provides extensive detail and an authenticity to this case and Penny’s work. This novel appealed to me with its focus on the germane subject of online dating as well as its Boston setting. English peppers the novel with plenty of Boston area locations such as Henrietta’s Table in Harvard Square, Mela in the South End, Kickstand Café in Arlington, Granary Tavern in the financial district, Trade on the waterfront, the New England Aquarium and Panificio Bakery on Charles Street. Penny visits some prime spots.

This is the third novel in the Penny Wade mystery series and the first I’ve read. It definitely reads as a stand-alone. There’s plenty of character development and description which allows readers to become invested in Penny, her work and her social life. Her supervisor Nathan gives Penny sage dating advice: “What if you started with evaluating a man’s ability to see and love you for who you are, to communicate well, to practice give-and-take. If he doesn’t get gold stars on those, you move on, no matter how good-looking or otherwise compelling he is.” Absolutely. It’s challenging but it’s the best thing to do. Wish I’d learned it in my 30s instead of my 20s. After reading Girl Ghosted I’d absolutely read another Penny Wade mystery.

“Vanessa looked back and forth between the photograph and the doll. The doll in Janey’s arms was the right size. It had on a similar long while dress and what was left of its blond hair was tied with a thin ribbon. But the resolution was nowhere near sharp enough to see whether the doll in the picture had a dimple like the one on the mantle, and the wig on the real doll was too threadbare to make a comparison.”

While playing in the yard forty years ago, Lissie’s younger sister Janey went missing. Lis feels guilty and responsible. They’ve never found out what happened to Janey that day. Every year on the anniversary of the sister’s disappearance, their mother, Miss Sorrel, places an ad in the local paper with a picture of the one-of-a-kind porcelain doll Janey had with her when she went missing in hopes that she’ll find answers. This year, the doll returns and it sets off new theories and a few leads into Janey’s disappearance. Someone must know what happened to Janey decades ago.

Set in a fictional South Carolina town, Hallie Ephron’s latest novel–You’ll Never Know, Dear— explores three generations of women and the aftermath of a devastating event. Miss Sorrel makes dolls which look like the little girls who own them. There’s a certain creepiness to porcelain dolls. Her daughter Lis moved home after getting divorced. Lis’s daughter, Vanessa, conducts research on dreams and PTSD in graduate school.

Amy Steele: As the book’s set in the south, what kind of research did you do?

Hallie Ephron: I’d been in the south very little. In South Carolina you find a lot of wealthy northerners there for the warmth of the winter season. I‘d been to Beaufort– a beautiful riverfront southern town– it’s where they filmed Forrest Gump. It’s a very colorful and beautiful place. I wrote half of it coasting on my memories and then realized I needed to go down and spend a few days with my camera and tape recorder. I spent four days absorbing it. The way that the marsh grass is a matted surface on the water, pecan trees … all the details went into the book. I’d already created my characters and I added details. The big thing I learned is that Beaufort has its own storied past. I fictionalized it so I wouldn’t be tethered to the true history of the place.

Amy Steele: Your parents being screenwriters, how did that influence your writing?

Hallie Ephron: I spent a lot of time not writing. I have three writing sisters and I was going to be the one who wouldn’t write. It took a long time to cave and I don’t think I would have if I didn’t have the genes. It’s a hard slog getting good enough to be published. I think my books are fairly cinematic. That’s from a kid growing up in Hollywood in a house that was movie-oriented. I was afraid I wouldn’t be good enough and I had to be old enough not to care. It took me a lot of time to get confident. There is a story in being a sister and a mother, in the everyday.

Amy Steele: You wrote about three generations of women. What did you like about that?

Hallie Ephron: I like writing about family and generations. I think we’re each so formed by our generation but you’re also formed by your relationship to your family. I particularly like writing older women. I think they’re often caricatured. Especially women over 60 or 70. I take a special pleasure in writing them as human beings with weaknesses. I liked writing Miss Sorrell. She’s kind of a tart individual.

Amy Steele: What do you like about writing in the mystery/thriller genre?

Hallie Ephron: I like figuring it out. I like the click when I figure it out. I usually don’t know the ending when I begin.I just know the set-up. Then I write all the complications, setbacks and challenges and all the while I try to think what does it look like is going on and what do I think is going on. I think in this book the mystery isn’t so much whodunit. I think the reader will realize halfway through who the villain is. But what are the motivations? What are the secrets they’re hiding? That’s what I try to figure out as I work my way to the end.

Amy Steele: How do you organize the novel or your writing?

Hallie Ephron: I have multiple time lines. I think of each character as having a life before the book began and after the book ends. I make a table where each character has a column and the rows are years. I plot the characters in their slots– when they were born and where they went to school– and see where the characters are as their lives progress as well as as the novel progresses. This novel I think takes place over three or four weeks so I do a drilled down version so that I know where the characters are. Even if the reader doesn’t know, I know.

Amy Steele: Do you come up with the characters first or the plot idea?

Hallie Ephron: The first thing I knew is that there would be doll parts. What does that mean? If there were doll parts there would be a doll maker. And who would she be. The story and the character go back and forth as I go along.

Amy Steele: What was the greatest challenge in writing this novel?

Hallie Ephron: I started with two narrators: Lis and Vanessa. I knew I couldn’t be in Miss Sorrel’s head because she knows too much. That was the 20someting and the 40something. I started to ask myself who’s story is this, who’s the protagonist and the answer can’t be both of them. I realized it had to be Lis. She’s the one who lost her sister. She’s the one who had to find her. Lis is the hero. It worked.

Amy Steele: What kind of books do you read?

Hallie Ephron: I read lots of books. I’m reading The Mothers. I just finished Joe Finder’s book. I read lots of books on South Carolina. I powered my way through Pat Conroy’s books. I don’t like horror. I don’t like romance.

You can catch Hallie Ephron speaking about You’ll Never Know, Dear at these events [for more events see her website]:

This was an overall fun and enjoyable read. I didn’t read the debut Kopp Sisters novel Girl Waits with Gun so maybe it wasn’t a good idea to read the second book. I do think that even in a series each book should be a stand-alone that anyone can pick up to read and figure out what’s going on. Despite not knowing the case from the first novel which did carry over to this novel–at least in consequences for Constance Kopp and her position as deputy sheriff—I could mostly piece together what I needed. The youngest sister Fleurette confused me at first and I didn’t know if she was a daughter or niece. I absolutely admire and appreciate that Amy Stewart found clips in which to base this case and that Constance Kopp was a real person. Stewart explained, “I’m lucky enough to have a huge treasure trove of newspaper clippings covering 1914 and 1915. Constance was in the paper all the time. This book covers one particular incident that made headlines nationwide: the pursuit of a convicted criminal.” This is a delightful description of Constance’s duties for the New Jersey sheriff’s department: “I wasn’t just a chaperone for wayward girls. I carried a gun and handcuffs. I could make an arrest, just like any deputy. I earned a man’s salary. People did find it shocking and I didn’t mind that one bit.” Constance stands as a strong, determined female working in the male-dominated field of law enforcement. She doesn’t seem deterred when men don’t know how to speak with her or how to react to her as she carries out her varied responsibilities. She lives with her sisters, Fleurette and Norma, in the countryside in New Jersey. Norma seems content to raise homing pigeons and not venture far from home. Fleurette dreams of the stage and for now acts in a local production. The sisters look out for one another and serve as sounding boards for each other. Not having sisters it seems a wonderful thing. This case didn’t quite enthrall me enough for a mystery/thriller, fortunately the strong female lead makes up for my lack of interest and sometimes confusion in the case. I rooted for Constance and her sisters to fight the system and to fight sexism.

–review by Amy Steele

FTC Disclosure: I received this book for review from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

Authors gather inspiration from everything. It can be a picture, a newspaper story, memories or personal experiences. The black and white photograph on the cover compelled author Phillip Margolin to create this thriller and also drew me in. The only unusual aspect of this inspiration is that the author purchased the photograph and it’s used as the cover. I’m not familiar with Margolin’s previous novels so I can’t compare his current work to his past work. There are two stories within this novel: one is that of aspiring novelist Stacey Kim and the other is that of Portland-based prosecutor Jack Booth.

A recent MFA graduate, Stacey Kim lives in New York City and works in an administrative position. Margolin writes: “Stacey’s nonexistent social life and mind-numbing job would not have mattered if she were making progress on her novel, but she wasn’t.” One day Stacey Kim visits the MoMA and happens upon an exhibit for photographer Kathy Moran. The photo “Woman with a Gun” mesmerizes her and she decides she needs to know more. Soon after she quits her job and moves to Portland for novel research when she discovers that the photo links to a cold case murder. The DA in the seaside town of Palisades Heights calls in Jack Booth to help with the Raymond Cahill murder case. Photographer Kathy Moran came upon Cahill’s wife Megan during an after-work walk on the beach and snapped the picture of her holding the gun in her wedding dress. Kathy Moran used to be a defense attorney but was disbarred. Jack Booth prosecuted a case where she represented a dangerous drug dealer named Kilbride. Moran won and Booth lost the case. Later when Moran became a drug addict, Booth and the police worked with her to arrest the drug dealer. Booth maintains an attraction to Moran.

Margolin fails to completely enthrall readers with the story or any of the characters. Particularly that of Stacey Kim and her journey to Portland, Oregon. She doesn’t just stop in for a research visit as most writers do but she quits her job to move cross-country. Generally I can’t stop reading a good thriller. While there are plenty of unexpected twists and turns, I didn’t care that much. Perhaps because the Cahill case isn’t solved until the budding novelist starts digging into the cold case.

Women aren’t positively portrayed in Woman with a Gun. They are gold-diggers or manipulative. On Megan Cahill someway says: “’Parnell, thick as he was, finally figured out that Megan was only interested in the millions he was going to make in pro ball, so he tried to break up with her. But, like I said, Megan has a genius IQ and is excellent at problem solving. She told Parnell that she was pregnant.’” The sexist clichés didn’t sit well with me. The beautiful woman who marries first a pro football player and then a team co-owner.

Then there’s the woman as sex object. When Booth describes his attraction to Moran it’s all sexual. During the Kilbride case: “Jack might have spent time wondering why she had not pursed a plea if he weren’t so preoccupied with wondering how Kathy’s breasts would feel when he cupped them or how smooth her thighs would feel when he stroked them.” When Stacey Kim becomes interested in Glen it’s as a potential relationship. Margolin writes: “But now, after the murder and the way Glen had helped her, she was wondering whether there was some way to make the relationship work, because she found that she was enjoying her time with Glen more than she’d enjoyed being with any man in recent memory.” I liked Booth. He’s dark and intriguing. I didn’t need the sections where he fantasized about Moran or remarked on some other woman’s looks. It brought the novel down several levels.

–review by Amy Steele

<em>FTC Disclosure: I received this book for review from Harper Collins.</em>

“How do ghosts see? We didn’t always. It had to be relearned. Dying is a matter of being reborn. In the beginning there was darkness and confusion. We learned gropingly. We felt our way into this new body, the way that infants do. Images began to emerge. The light began to creep in.”

Starts with an appealing set-up: author Lauren Oliver divides the novel by the various rooms and focuses on one character at a time. There’s Caroline Walker and her two adult children, Trenton and Minna, returning to their childhood home after their father Richard’s death. Minna has a daughter, Amy. The Walkers haven’t been in this home for a decade or more since their parents’ divorce. Two ghosts—Sandra and Alice– currently reside in the house. As this family deals with cleaning up the house and the aftermath of the father’s death, Oliver explores their connections and intermingles some of the characters with the ghosts. We find out about the family. The parents split and subsequently the children become alienated from their father. Oliver also eventually discloses how the two ghosts died in the house. Rooms unfolded with promise but wasn’t quite compelling enough. I could put it down and wasn’t invested enough to pore through it. The solid writing needed to be punched up a notch or two. Sometimes when you tell stories from too many angles and too many points-of-view the stories muddle instead of illuminate. Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger remains my favorite novel involving ghosts. Effectively creepy and bewitching. As I read it, I felt chills. I adore that book.

–review by Amy Steele

<em>FTC Disclosure: I received this book for review from ECCO/Harper Collins. </em>

“Fortunately, I had some experience with this particular species. For the first fifteen years of my life I had been shuffled from tutor to tutor, learning all the things my mother thought ladies (or bastard children of petty nobility) should know—which as far as I can tell were gleaned directly from an Edith Wharton novel. I studied etiquette, music, antique furniture, napkin folding. I can spot a fake Picasso at a thousand paces; I dance the gavotte; I’m adept with a lemon fork, a butter pick, and a piccalilli spoon.”

When we meet Janie Jenkins she’s just out of prison after serving a decade for matricide. Did she do it? Apparently teenage Janie created quite the name for herself in Los Angeles where she moved with her mother after living in Switzerland. One of those famous for no real reason but being pretty and partying– celebrities like Nicole Ritchie [okay famous dad] or the Kardashians. Now she’s on the run from the paparazzi and determined to find out who killed her mom. She and her mom were not even close. She often vehemently disliked her mother. They disagreed on everything and constantly fought. Janie was not daughter-of-the-year framed for murder. It seems she could have killed her high-society wealthy mother.

“Any similarities between me and my mother had always been conspicuously absent. I’m blowsy blond, fox-faced, built like a ballerina but lacking the grace. My mother, on the other hand, looked like Marilyn Monroe—but carried herself like Grace Kelly. I wasn’t just the apple that had fallen far from the tree. I was the apple that had been eaten up by worms, too.”

A smart debut from Harvard graduate Elizabeth Little. The story’s told from Janie’s perspective. She may have once been the carefree party girl but now she’s battling for her reputation and a chance to redefine herself. Janie is cynical and savvy. In prison she spent tons of time in the library researching connections to her mother and the murder. She found a promising lead and heads to an isolated town in South Dakota to probe the details. There she meets a bizarre cast of characters. Little writes with dark humor and intrigue. She includes flashbacks to the murder and Janie’s life before prison interspersed with text messages between Janie and her lawyer as well as news from various gossip sites. Lots of twists. Salacious and intriguing details on both Janie and her mom and their damaged, treacherous relationship. The ending is a bit far-fetched for my liking but Dear Daughter is a solid thriller which grabs your attention from page one. Definitely one to pick up for a weekend or getaway read.

At the estate, Roman and Jean find an impressive wine cellar as well as a museum-quality Chinese art collection. During the weekend Jean hooks up with a married man at the estate for the tasting. Roman finds quick love with Lyon’s closeted gay son Bernie, a struggling filmmaker. They encounter massive family drama, drug dealing and murder among the vultures. It’s a grand set-up for a spectacular thriller. Unfortunately it became convoluted and confusing instead of a page-turner.

“As they tasted through the 1970s, Jean marveled at the myriad aromas and flavors that could come from moldy white grapes, everything from tobacco to caramel to apricots to orange blossoms. She had to force herself to spit out the luscious wines.
Tasting wine this good was almost like sex: Both pursuits involved intense focus and total immersion in delightful sensations to the exclusion of all else. Jean smiled to herself. At least during sex she didn’t have to take notes. Or spit.”

This is a follow-up to Death in a Wine Dark Sea in which author Lisa King introduced readers to Jean Applequist, an unconventional wine writer with a penchant for solving mysteries. Jean is tall, unapologetic and I wish that King would spend way more time developing her character. Zeppo? He’s irksome. He nags Jean. Since he’s a 24-year-old college student, Zeppo and Jean see each other most weekends. He’s overprotective. Jean’s independent and a 32-year-old sophisticated, intelligent woman. King doesn’t make their connection clear enough. It’s implausible.

Having worked as an editor and writer for wine and food magazines, King spends a lot of time describing wine and food in the novel. This might appeal to some. It’s okay but only if it bolsters the story. When I read Death in a Wine Dark Sea I found a lot of promise in it. Two years later Vulture au Vin struggles with the same issues: too many characters, too many tangents and not enough character development.

RATING: ***/5

–review by Amy Steele

FTC Disclosure: I received this book for review from The Permanent Press.

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About Me

covering mostly music and books. focus on alternative/indie and women in music, literature and the arts. feminist. vegan. mostly alternative, a bit bohemian. Masters in journalism from Boston University. BA from Simmons College.